


Coffee Cups and Football Boots

by riverniall



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Football, Always, Bottom Harry, Fluff and Smut, Football Player Louis, M/M, harry owns a cafe and louis is a football player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7441081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverniall/pseuds/riverniall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.</p><p>Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.</p><p>Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Cups and Football Boots

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of work is my baby and I am immensely proud of it. It has taken a lot of Blood, Sweat and Tears (check out BTS, I promise you won't regret it!!) and I sincerely hope that you lovely people enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. 
> 
> Without further ado, welcome to Coffee Cups and Football Boots!

 

❀

**L O U I S**

It’s Monday morning and Louis feels like dying. Last night the team (mainly Niall, Zayn, and Liam) dragged him out to celebrate their victory in the match they played against Barcelona.

(The match was last week.)

They had gone to Tiger Tiger in Leeds and Jesus, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been so drunk. There’s definitely going to be pictures in the papers. He can almost certainly guarantee that there are shots of him circulating the web already.

PR’s going to kill him. He blames Niall and his luck of the Irish for being able to hold more than half his weight in alcohol so well. Damn Irish. As the clock seesaw’s into view, Louis rubs the sleep out of his eyes and winces at the bright light. 9:39 am, the clock reads.

Louis groans and drops his head back onto his pillow. He shuts his eyes and wills himself to fall back into a blissful sleep where the hangover can’t touch him. Minutes tick by and he’s still not asleep.

“For fuck’s sake,” he growls, shoving himself upright and pausing as the room spins and his stomach turns. He waits for a full three minutes before slowly, ever so slowly, creeping out of bed, stuffing his feet in his expensive UGG slippers _(oh shut up_ , it was a gift from Perrie - the blonde slash pink haired girl from next door that smells like ginger nut biscuits and cigarette buds) and pads downstairs to the kitchen.

The sun shines brightly in his eyes, too bright in his opinion for it being 9 in the fucking morning, so he snags a pair of sunglasses that his mum or one of the girls probably left behind last time they were there, and slides them on, moaning gratefully as the lights are dimmed.

His phone is on top of the microwave and when he opens the cutlery draw to find a spoon, he’s surprised to find none. Instead a sticky note is in place where the utensils should be, in a very familiar writing, stating that _all the spooons have been taken hostage u have 1 hour 2 find them…..or else they DIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!_

 

Louis rubs his temple, unlocking his phone and going onto his contacts, tapping away.

 

**Niall. This isn’t funny. Where r the spoons!!!!**

 

He clicks send and switches the kettle on, grabbing a mug and the milk. His phone beeps.

 

**_HAHAHAHAHA THAT’S SO FUNNY !!! BUT IDK WHAT YOU'RE TALKIN BOUT_ **

 

He lets out a huff, fingers flying as he rapidly replies.

 

**I swear to god u little shit, I NEED my coffee!!!!!!!!**

 

Niall rings instead of texting back. Louis has to hold the phone away from his ear as Niall’s laughter screeches through the phone. He goes on the hunt for some Paracetamol.

 

“Niall,” he whines, nearly crying when his fingers find purchase on said Paracetamol box. “I need coffee,”

 

Niall lets out another laugh, Louis wincing at the sound. It's _way_ too early for this stupid shit. “Under the sink.”

 

Louis practically sprints over and lets out a yelp of happiness to which he immediately regrets, clutching his head. “Thanks, mate, but I’m still gonna get you back for this.”

 

Niall snorts, “Alright then, looking forward to it.”  

 

Louis mentally flips him the bird and hangs up. He makes himself his coffee and takes the tablets, sinking into the sofa happily. He burrows himself under a blanket that’s draped across that back of the sofa. Damn it’s cold, where the hell has the heat gone? He wriggles deeper into the mass of cushions, which helps a lot more with the heat problem and switches on the TV. He surfs through various different channels before settling on the F.R.I.E.N.D.S marathon that’s on Comedy Central.

 

He’s about halfway through the second episode when the tablets kick in, making him let out a sigh of relief and he gulps on his coffee while laughing at Joey and Chandler’s new dilemma.

 

❀

 

He decides to go out after he’s microwaved a Rustler’s chicken burger (because let’s face it; he kicks a ball around for a living, not learning how to cook). He slips into his black jeans that he knows for a fact drives the boys’ nuts and a grey vest, pulling on his black and white Vans. He doesn’t bother with his hair, it just falls into place now and grabs his keys and wallet.

 

Luckily, the paps’ seem to be stalking someone else today, so Louis hops into his silver Mercedes Benz undisturbed and smiles as the car purrs to life. The sound of U2’s new album blares through the speaker system and Louis turns it off with a groan.

 

Ever since he’d woken up to having it downloaded onto his phone without him knowing by Apple, Niall has been obsessed with it, playing it on repeat with every chance he gets. It’s annoying the hell out of Louis. He flicks through his music before settling on the Bon Jovi Greatest Hits album, singing along as Jon sings.

 

 _“SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU'RE TO BLAME, DARLIN’ YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME!”_ Louis speeds out of the gates closing off his home and checks the rear-view mirror to check the gates are closing behind him. There automatic, but it doesn’t hurt to check. Satisfied, he bobs his head along to the catchy tune and beat that’s vibrating the car.

 

He pulls up at the traffic light and taps his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing around him. He notices something moving out of the corner of his eye, and he turns his head and rolls down the window, waving at the little boy that seems to have spotted him.

 

He’s got longish tuffs of blonde hair, brown eyes and chubby cheeks. He grins happily at Louis, looking star-struck.

 

“Hi, there!” He says, turning down the music.

 

The kid giggles, the sound making Louis’ heart melt. “Hi!” He has an American accent. The mum leans over into view.

 

“Hello! Cameron is such a huge fan, he loves you, has posters of you on his walls and has your jersey,” Louis eyes the red striped shirt he’s currently wearing. “He never takes it off,” she adds, ruffling his hair.

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet such a dedicated little fan, you’re pretty cool, you know that?”

 

He watches as Cameron claps his hands together with glee. “Thank you, Mr Tomlinson!”

 

Louis checks the lights and is delighted to see that they are still red. “So polite, I love it! And call me Louis, Mr Tomlinson makes me sound old.” Cameron nods his head giggling.

 

“How long are you in the UK for?” He asks.

 

“Another month, we have family over hear,” the mum explains, eyes twinkling as she glances at her son.

 

Louis quickly looks around, spotting a small café hidden next to a large New Look shop. From where he is, there doesn’t seem to be anybody in there. It is perfect.

 

“Well, if you aren’t busy, we could grab a coffee over there? I’d love to get to know you, Cameron.” Cameron whips his head towards his mum so fast, Louis is surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

 

“Please mommy, please, please, please!” He starts bouncing up and down in his seat, tugging on the sleeves of her shirt. His accent’s so adorable! He watches as she looks down at her watch, pursing her lips.

 

“I suppose we can spare a half hour, but we’ve got to be at an appointment soon, sorry,”

 

Louis shrugs, “It’s fine; I’ve got training at one, anyway,” He checks his watch, noting that it’s already twelve and that he needs to set off for the grounds soon if he doesn’t want coach to rip his balls off. The lights turn green and Louis turns left, towards the dingy café. Cameron’s mum follows behind him.

 

He pulls into a parking space outside and steps out, hitting the lock button and depositing the keys safely in his pocket. He waits for Cameron’s mum to get out of the car and smiles when she unbuckles Cameron from his car seat.

 

As soon as he’s set free he shoots out of the car and grins widely at Louis, cheeks ruddy with excitement. Louis extends his arm out in front of him. “After you,” Cameron and his mum enter the café, the strong smell of coffee and bread assaulting his senses.

 

He lets Cameron and his mum lead him to a table and waits for them to get in. “What’ll it be? I’m paying,” He pulls out his wallet for emphasis at the look the mum gives him.

 

“You are? Well, I’ll have a black coffee – no sugar, and he’ll have a fruit shoot please,” Louis nods, mentally jotting down the orders.

 

“Anything else? A slice of cake? Packet of crisps?”

 

Cameron asks for a bag of Quavers and when his mum agrees, Louis happily goes over to the counter, ready to place his order.

 

He waits a couple of seconds before getting impatient and ringing the bell that’s been placed on the counter. A young boy comes stumbling out of the back room, frantically tying an apron around his waist, beaming from ear to ear.

 

 _Well, at least I’ll get service with a smile,_ Louis thinks, raising an eyebrow as the boy trips over his own feet, grabbing onto the counter for support.

 

“Hi!” he pants, hands idly coming up to fix a blue headscarf that’s holding his hair back. “I’m Harry, and welcome to _Styles Spoons_! What can I get you today?”

 

Louis watches as he fumbles of a small notepad that’s pink and covered in hearts, and before he has any time to think about it, he’s pulled out a pencil and is waiting for him.

 

“One coffee – black, no sugar, a tea – extra milky, no sugar, an apple and blackcurrant Fruit Shoot and a bag of Quavers, please.” Harry jots down frantically as he’s talking, pink tongue poking out in concentration. Louis has to hide his blush as darker thoughts about that tongue spring to the forefront of his mind.

 

Harry gives him a smile and says, “That’ll be £5.95, please.” He presses some buttons on the till and Louis hands over his card, noting the way Harry doesn’t react to his name on the card. He mustn’t know who he is.

 

“If you’ll enter your pin,” Harry explains, handing over the card holder, averting his eyes as Louis enters his pin, passing it back. He hums as the machine syncs to the till, and catches Louis’ eyes, flushing the prettiest shade of pink. Louis is in love.

 

He takes the card out and hands it back over, smiling shyly at him. “Your order will be brought to your table,” he whispers, green eyes sparkling.

 

“Thanks, Harry,” Louis replies, slipping his card back into his wallet. He (reluctantly) spins on his heels and heads back towards the table, heart pounding.

 

Oh yeah, he’s definitely coming back here.

 

❀

 

Louis is distracted all practice. He misses three goals and lets Devine steal the ball from him, mind focussed on a certain curly haired boy, with big doe eyes and dimples in his smile.

 

“Oi, Tomlinson!” Zayn shouts, punching him in the arm, hard, ignoring Louis’ outraged cry of _ow! Dude, what the fuck!_ and raising an eyebrow.

 

Louis rubs his arm, pouting. “What?”

 

“What’s with you today?” Louis kicks the ground, the fleeting image of Harry popping up again, before forcing himself to answer Zayn’s question.

 

“Nothing, I’m fine, why?”

 

Zayn gives him an exasperated look. “You let Josh Devine steal the ball and you’ve missed several goals. Something’s up, and I am not going to let this drop until you spill the beans, ok?”

 

“Well, you’ll be waiting a long time then, won’t you, because I’m fine.”

 

(He relents five minutes later, gushing about Harry’s cute smile and shining eyes, and his endearing clumsiness. Louis definitely does not blush when Zayn teases him about his not so little crush.

 

“Gotta getcha’ head in the game, Lou,” Zayn snickers, dodging the kick that comes his way. “Gotta getcha’, getcha’, getcha’, getcha’ head in the game!”

 

Louis lets out a loud groan, practicing his dribbles, “That was awful,”

 

Zayn grins, “Gotta love High School Musical.”)

 

❀

 

He visits the coffee shop again, this time with Zayn in tow. It’s a bad idea to bring Zayn, but he literally locked himself in Louis car, waving the keys at him from behind the window until he surrendered and agreed to take him.

 

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

 

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

 

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

 

It’s quiet as Harry works on fixing his nail, cheesy Christmas music playing softly in the background. Finally, he looks up, eyes sparkling, and thrusts his hands in front of Louis’ face. “Look, now they’re all happy,”

 

Louis can’t help but crack a grin at the sight of Harry’s red painted nails with small cliché stickers of Elves on them. They’re smiling happily.

 

“That’s pretty cool,” Zayn pipes up, Louis having forgotten he was there. Oops.

 

Harry grins, ducking his head, “Thanks,”

 

“My sisters’ always trying to paint mine, but I’ve always said no, I might have to reconsider,” Louis cuts in, a hot flash of jealousy flaring in him. _I knew Harry first, I spoke to him first, and I made him blush, he’s mine_ circling around his head. He halts the brain train right then and there. Since when did he own Harry?

 

It’s as if Zayn reads his mind because he smirks at him and redirects his attention to Harry who’s staring at them with curiosity. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit spacey without a cup of tea,”

 

Before he can mutter a _fuck off_ in retaliation, Harry dances over to the machine and calls out, “Yorkshire Tea, extra milky, no sugar, yes?”

 

Louis stares at him for a moment before he says, a bit too loudly, “I think I’m in love.”

 

Zayn laughs and Louis watches in fascination as Harry’s cheeks turn bright red, and he shifts, giggling. It’s the sweetest sound in the world. Harry shakes his head and gestures towards the machine. Oh. Right.

 

“Erm, yes please, that’d be great.” Harry switches the machine on and grabs a paper cup. Zayn mocks him under his breath and when Harry’s looking at the machine, stomps on his foot. Zayn shouts out a curse word, grabbing his foot and hopping up and down on the spot.

 

Harry, bless his soul, doesn’t question the chaos, instead he asks, “Take in or out?”

 

“Take out, oh and can I have your number?” This is it. He’s done it. His brain has once again lost connection with his mouth and he’s blurted out the truth. Damn it.

 

He waits with baited breath as Harry almost drops the pot of milk in his hands, fumbling to get it onto the counter. There’s a few spilled droplets on the floor, but harry doesn’t look too bothered. His entire face is red and he’s biting his lip.

 

Louis wants to suck it into his mouth until Harry’s whimpering and whining underneath him. Damn, he really needs to stop having such R-rated thoughts about Harry.

 

“I don’t even know your name?” Harry finally manages to get out, nervously chewing his nail. Suddenly, he’s being smacked around the back of the head.

 

“You didn’t even tell him your name? Geez, you’re hopeless.”

 

Louis swats him away and turns to Harry. “’m name is Louis and I’d really like to take you out?” He starts of confidently, but ends up trailing off into a question. Zayn is right. He’s hopeless.

 

“Well, uhm, I’d like that,” Harry squeaks, gripping onto the counter. “Louis.”

 

Louis lets out an almighty cheer, making Harry laugh and Zayn groan. “Put your number in and I’ll text you later, kay?” he hands over his mobile and watches as Harry’s fingers fly across the screen.

 

“Sounds good.” He replies, handing it back over. “I’ll just…make that tea now.” He has a silly grin on his face as he hands the cup over, and as their fingers touch, a shock coursing throughout his body, making him shudder.

 

“Ugh, you two make me sick,” Zayn complains, shielding his eyes. “I’ll take a large coffee, plenty of milk and sugar please. I need something to take the edge off your love fest.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his tea, smiling to himself. Harry got it just right. Again.

 

He makes sure to leave an extra-large tip when he pays.

 

❀

 

Somehow, the whole team finds out about Harry (Louis has his suspicions and Zayn is _so_ going to wake up one morning with ants in his bed). They tease him endlessly – via text message, Facebook and Wattsap. He blocks the group conversation named _lou’s coffee shop guy crush!!!!!!_ and settles into the sofa, glass of wine in hand.

 

What? It’s been a long week.

 

He’s had the worst hangover of all hangovers, he’s met the most beautiful guy in the world and suffered endlessly in the name of teasing and jibbing from who’s supposed to be his friends (minus Josh).

 

He searches through the planner and selects The Great British Bake Off, mouth-watering at the sight of all the baked goods (and not so goods). His phone vibrates beside him and he picks it up, blinking at the screen.

 

 _HARRY FROM THE COFFEE SHOP!!!_ is staring at him, taunting him. Damn, he forgot to text Harry! Setting his glass down on the table, he eagerly unlocks his phone and clicks on the message, rolling his eyes fondly.

 

_Hiiiiiii. It’s Harry. From the coffee shop. X_

 

He’s smiling as he types out his reply.

 

 **I** **know its ur contact name, I forgot 2 text u, I totally forgot – honest, sorry!!!! X**  

 

He sets his phone down and glances at the TV, determined not to check his phone every couple of seconds like a teenage girl. He’s finally gotten settled, shaking his head as Dianna takes Iian’s Baked Alaska out of the freezer and leaves it on the side, not bothering to tell Iian. Surely, she should be disqualified for cheating!

He’s about to start shouting at the TV in a moment of madness, when his phone buzzes with Harry’s text. He snatches it up.

 

 _Its ok, I’ve been busy. How are you? Xx_ Harry’s text reads, and Louis most defiantly does not roll around on the sofa, squealing happily for a full minute before he composes himself.

 

**Workin @ the coffee shop a full time thing? And what kind of name is ‘styles spoons’?? Haha**

 

He sends it before realizing that he never answered Harry’s question.

 

**Also, I’m good thnks – u? Xx**

 

His phone vibrates again and he shakes his head softly, grinning.

 

_Heyyyyyy, Styles Spoons is a great name! And yeah. I kind of own it. Xx_

 

Louis’ eyebrows raise. Harry owns the coffee shop? Wow, he didn’t know that.

 

**I didn’t know u owned the coffee shop?? How long u owned it??xxx**

 

Louis bites his thumb, deliberating whether or not to add the extra kiss. Fuck it, he clicks send before he can back out. God, he’s such a girl. Zayn would be laughing his arse off if he saw him right now. Twat.

 

_It’s a long story – I could tell you on our date?xxx_

 

**Aren’t I the 1 meant 2 b asking u out??xxx**

 

He turns his attention to the telly, tutting as Paul Hollywood assesses yet another under baked and quite frankly ugly looking Baked Alaska.

 

_Go on then xxx_

 

Louis waits all of five minutes before hastily typing out:

 

**Will you go on a date with me, HARRY FROM THE COFFEE SHOP!!! ??xxx**

 

Louis has to bite his knuckles in anticipation. His phone lights up. Taking a deep breath, Louis unlocks the phone.

 _Of course I will,_ Harry’s text reads and Louis doesn’t even try to hold in his shout of victory, letting out a laugh at Harry’s overuse of the smiley face emoji. _:):):):):):)xxx_

 

❀

 

Once again the team somehow, and Louis has no idea how, find out about his date with Harry. (Louis suspects his phone is bugged because he most definitely did not tell Zayn about it yet.) He rolls his eyes as Zayn tries to tackle him for the ball, hollering _lover boy lou! lover boy lou!_ over and over again. He manages to swivel around Zayn and races for the net, laughing at his outraged cry from behind him.

 

He pulls his leg back and using all of his pent up irritation, swings his leg forward, sending the ball flying into the net. Josh gives him a dirty look in which Louis flips him the finger, laughing as Josh storms off the pitch. Little cry baby.

 

Zayn runs upto him and pats him on the back, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” Louis grunts, flicking his fringe out of his face, absentmindedly making a mental note to have it cut soon. Zayn gives him a look which says _I don’t believe a word you're saying_ and _cut the bullshit._ Louis sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “I think one of the guys is hacking my phone and I’m nervous about my date with Harry.”

 

Zayn furrows his eyebrows with worry, “You think someone is hacking your phone? Who?”

 

Louis casts a glance over at Josh, who’s sulking on the bench, looking like a wasp has stung him. Zayn follows him.

 

“You think Devine did it?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe I’m being silly, but I didn’t get the chance to tell you and yet, somehow the team knows.”

 

Zayn nods, and shrugs. “I already knew that you were going on a date with him.”

 

“What?!” Louis yelps, throwing his hands up. “How?”

 

Zayn grins widely. “You have your present face on.”

 

“Present face?”

 

“The face you pull whenever you get a date or get lucky.” Louis lets out a snort before shaking his head.

 

❀

 

It’s Saturday and The Date is in an hour and to say that Louis is freaking the fuck out would be an understatement. Various items of clothing are scattered around his room, including several pairs of Vans and Converse. In the end he settles with a pair of black skinny jeans, a grey t-shirt and a black blazer. He rolls up his jeans and slips into his black Vans.

 

He fixes his hair, picking up his keys and wallet. He starts driving towards Harry’s flat, the younger boy texting him it earlier, and passes a flower shop. He quickly parks the car on the side of the rode and practically sprints towards the flower shop.

 

The old woman behind the till looks surprised to see him (well, it is five minutes before closing time, Louis reasons) as he goes over to the roses, eyes scanning the various colours. Damn, there’s a lot.

 

“Need some help, dearie?” Louis whips around to see the woman smiling kindly at him.

 

“Yes please, I’m going on a date tonight,”

 

The lady nods, “Ah, a lucky lady.”

 

Louis shakes his head, turning his attention to the flowers again. “A lad, actually.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the lady grin.

 

“A lucky lad, then.”  She plucks a single rose. Yellow. “The promise of a new beginning.”

 

Louis raises his eyes but doesn’t comment, instead picking up an already wrapped bunch. “I’ll take these.”

 

❀

**H A R R Y**

 

Harry’s wearing his best pair of black jeggings and his favourite black and white patterned shirt, that’s unbuttoned to just above his butterfly tattoo. His swallows are on perfect display. On his feet are his brand new boots that he purchased from a charity shop around the corner from the café (they were once really expensive, and are, surprisingly, in good condition, thank you very much).

 

His nails are painted a light shade of lavender which he did earlier whilst watching the MTV Video Music Awards (Damn, Nikki’s arse, though. She makes Harry jealous.) on his large tv.

 

His leaves his hair down, smiling as the long curls kiss the back of his neck. Oh yes, it was definitely the right decision to grow it out. His phone rings and Harry clicks the answer button, rolling his eyes.

 

“Hi, Liam.”

 

 _“Harry,”_ Liam’s voice crackles from the other end. _“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date tonight?”_

 

Harry lets out a soft sigh, toeing the floor. “Because I didn’t want you to worry. Like you are right now.”

 

_“I’m not worrying. I’m just concerned for you.”_

 

Harry has to grin at the conviction in his voice. “I’m going to be fine, Li, Louis’ a real nice guy.”

 

Liam hums, _“I just don’t want you to end up in a situation like you did last time.”_

 

“I won’t – that guy was a total creep,” Harry comments, eyes flitting over to the clock. Two minutes. “I’ll call you when I get back, ok?”

 

 _“You better, or else.”_ He warns, making Harry giggle.

 

“What you gonna do, Li, tickle me to death?”

 

He hears Liam growl on the other end of the line. _“I’ll throw you over my shoulder, take you out into the woods –“_ Liam ignores Harry sly comment of _kinky, didn’t know you had it in you. “and bury your body.”_

 

Harry bursts into laughter, throwing his head back. “Alright, alright, I’ll call. Promise. Wouldn’t want you to bury me in the woods now, would we?” He locks the door and pockets the key, making his way downstairs. He doesn’t answer the cat calls from the rowdy neighbours and grumbles to himself as the ‘ **OUT OF ORDER’** sign taped haphazardly onto the elevator screams at him.

 

_“Alright. Keep safe. Love you, H.”_

 

“Love ya too, Leemo!” With a hum, Harry flicks the end button and lets himself out of the building, making sure that the doors closed behind him. People are always trying to sneak in. He looks up and down the road, seeing nothing but an oddly out of place sports car on the other side of the road.

 

 _I wouldn’t leave that here for too long,_ he thinks, flicking his hair out of his face as a gentle breeze sways the trees. _When they get back, the car probably won’t be here._

 

“Harry,” Louis’ voice sounds from behind him. Harry jumps with a loud squeak, managing to spin around to face Louis, only to have his boot catch on the pavement. He goes down with an _uff_ and is surprised when strong arms wrap around his waist and haul him back onto his feet.

 

“Oops,” Harry giggles, cheeks flaming hotly.

 

Louis has this fond look in his eyes. “Hi.” Harry realises that Louis’ arms’ are still around him and Louis must too, because he abruptly lets him go, coughing. Harry doesn’t have time to be disappointed as a bunch of yellow roses as thrust in his face.

 

“Oh,” he breaths, taking them from Louis. “They’re beautiful.” He leans down and sniffs them, eyes fluttering as the wonderful smell hits him. He looks back up at Louis, who seems to be watching them intently. If Harry’s looks closer, he swears he can see a faint blush coating his cheeks.

 

“It’s no problem,” Louis replies gruffly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He starts to say something else, but Harry’s attention is drawn towards Louis’ outfit. He’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans (they rival Harry’s tightest jeans, and that’s saying something), a grey t-shirt which shows of the top of a tattoo (Harry will most defiantly have to explore more into that) and a black blazer that he’s rolled up so Harry can see a literary of more tattoos.

 

“C’mon then, I’ve just the place to go,” Louis gently takes his hand and leads him towards the sports car.

Harry balks. “That’s _your_ car?!” he nearly screeches. What? He can’t help it. Even just _looking_ at something so expensive makes him feel queasy.

 

Louis grins and swings open the door for Harry. “She’s my pride and joy.”

 

Hesitantly, and trying not to touch anything, Harry slips into the passenger seat, taking in the dark interior and fancy leather seats. Louis shuts the door behind him and prances around to the other side, jumping in beside him.

 

He switches the ignition on and immediately, the screaming voices of Bon Jovi deafens him, yet he recognises the tune. Louis turns the volume down, throwing him a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that – Bon Jovi are one of my favourite bands.”

 

Harry fiddles with his fingers and peeks up at Louis beneath his hair, “Jon Bon Jovi knows how to rock,” he agrees, watching with contained glee as Louis’ eyes light up.

 

“He sure does.” It’s quiet as they drive, Harry more nervous the more posh restaurants and hotels they pass. He watches through the window as they pass a café. It’s got a big bold lit up sign – _DONNY’S CAFÉ_ (which, honestly. What a boring name. Not like _Styles Spoons_ , of course – now _that_ is an awesome name) and it’s much larger than Harry’s.

 

It’s full to the brink full of people. Couples, families, even just single people sat by themselves, sipping their drinks. It’s got more customers than Harry has had the whole week. _Whatever,_ Harry thinks, eyes straying over to Louis’ form. He’s bobbing his head up and down to the music, tapping in time to the beat on the steering wheel, _Styles Spoons has originality and awesomeness._

 

They pull up outside the restaurant and Harry just about dies. “Wow,” he murmurs, cheeks flushing as Louis opens his door and holds out his hand.

 

He puffs out a breath as the five star restaurant _, The Ritz,_ which is dubbed as _'the most beautiful dining room in Europe and home to the finest British cuisine'_ , comes into his full view and counts the people queuing outside behind the red velvet rope as Louis pulls him inside. Harry is in complete awe at the amazing decor.

 

Crystal chandeliers hang majestically from the ceiling, gold swirls and twists painted onto the ceiling and walls.  Large open view windows stare out over the skyline of London. There are waiters bustling about, carrying large shiny silver trays on their shoulders, wearing finely pressed suits and shiny shoes.

 

Harry lets himself feel intimidated for about five seconds before mentally slapping himself. So what if Louis has got a lot of money? He obviously likes him or he wouldn’t have asked him out. They stand in front of the front desk for a few minutes when a young woman, with dark curled hair comes upto them.

 

“Hello again, Mr Tomlinson, table for one?” Oh, so Louis must be a regular here then. Harry clears his throat and steps up next to Louis.

 

“Table for two, actually Danielle.” Danielle looks shocked, but quickly composes herself.

 

“Yes, sir, right this way.” She leads them to a secluded table in the back room and Harry holds in his squeal as Louis pulls out his chair for him. He takes a seat and his eyes follow Louis as he sits opposite him.

 

“Do you need some time to order, sir?” Danielle asks, eyes flicking to Harry, smiling.

 

Louis nods. “Yes, thank you.” Danielle leaves. Harry looks up and sees Louis already staring at him. He feels his cheeks turn red.

 

“What?”

 

Louis shakes his head and rests his hands on the table. “You look beautiful tonight, Harry.”

 

Harry absolutely does not giggle like a little girl. He does not. (He does.) “Thank you,” he takes a sip of their already made glasses of champagne. “You look rather handsome yourself.”

 

Louis, to his credit, doesn’t blush. Rather, he grins stupidly, revealing the most wonderful crinkles by his eyes. Oh good lord. Harry takes a larger gulp of champagne – to calm his ever growing nerves. Louis hands him a menu and he scans it. Wow, even a salad is out of his price range – looks like the only thing Harry’s having tonight is the free champagne.

 

“So,” Louis starts, setting his menu down, Harry copying. “What would you like?”

 

Harry shrugs, “’m not really hungry, to be honest.” Louis gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t comment further. When Danielle returns to the table, Louis hands her the menus.

 

“We’ll have the Sea Bass En Croute to share please.” Harry’s eyes widen as Danielle taps in their order onto a digital device.

 

“Good choice, sir. Anything else to drink?”

 

Louis shakes his head. “Just keep the champers coming, thanks.” Danielle nods and then she’s off. Harry gives Louis an incredulous look.

 

“What?”

 

Harry shakes his head, “You know that I can’t possible allow you to pay for that?”

 

“Love, it’s an £80 meal for two, it’s honestly no big deal.” Harry loses focus for a seconds, the endearment momentarily side-tracking him. He pinches his thigh under the table.

 

“Louis…”

 

Louis instead leans forward and takes Harry’s hand into his, thumb stroking the soft skin. “Harry, I asked you out tonight – I’ll admit, with a bit of pushing from you, “he adds, smiling at Harry. “and I insist on paying tonight, if you want, you can pay next time.”

 

“Next time?” Harry echoes, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl on her first date with her first crush.

 

“Next time.” Louis agrees.

 

❀

 

They end up having an amazing time. Louis is so charming and witty and knows exactly what to say. To say that Harry is enamoured with him is like saying that the Titanic was as big as a small fishing boat. Harry’s cheeks remain flushed throughout the night and he can hardly find it in himself to complain when Louis orders even more expensive desserts for them.

 

“So,” Louis asks, digging into his Exotic Soufflé. “Out of 10, what would you rate this date?”

 

Harry puts on his best thinking face. “Hmm...Maybe a 7.”

 

Louis shoots him a scandalized look. “Just a 7? Not even a 7.5, my, my I must say that I am absolutely shocked. I would’ve rated this date at least an 8 - maybe a 9.”

  
Harry rolls his eyes, “I think it was my date’s overzealous ego.” He laughs loudly when Louis places his hand on his heart and dramatically begins to cry.

“Oh, my – my heart has just been broken!” Harry shakes his head fondly.

“Here,” Louis sobers, scooping some Soufflé onto his fork. “Try this.”  He leans across the table, hand stretched out, fork in front of his face. Harry fights the attack of blood creeping up his neck as he opens his mouth and closes it around the fork, moaning slightly as the Soufflé hits his taste buds. He pulls away and coughs gently at the dark look in Louis’ eyes.

Louis gently shakes himself and finishes the rest of his desert. Danielle comes back over with a gentle smile on her face. “Was the food to your liking, Mr Tomlinson, Mr?”

“Oh, Styles – Harry Styles.” He thrusts out his hand and pouts when Louis laughs at him.

Danielle shakes it and hands over the bill. He reaches over to look at it but Louis simply signs the slip of paper and hands her it back along with a couple hundred pounds in notes. Danielle doesn’t look shocked, instead she looks around to see that no one’s looking and places a quick kiss to the top of Louis’ head.

She quickly pulls back and clears her throat. “Well, thank you for dining at _The Ritz,_ Mr Tomlinson and Mr Styles – Harry Styles, we look forward to seeing you again.” Harry and Louis both stand up and make their way towards the doors. Harry finds himself blushing profusely when Louis takes his hand, thumbing the soft skin there.

He leads him away from the direction of the car, instead turning and tugging him down the street. “Lou – where are we going?” Harry asks, immediately wanting to smack himself for the nickname. Clearly they aren’t at the nickname stage yet, dammit.

“You didn’t think this date would be over already did you?” He throws Harry a fond look. “I thought we could go get some ice-cream – if you want?”

Harry gets this weird feeling in his belly – just below his butterfly tattoo, which in turn feels likes he’s got a thousand baby butterflies fluttering in there – and he can’t stop the stupid grin that splits across his face. “I’d like that.” 

❀

 

Their sat in a small ice cream parlour (Harry doesn’t even know how he found this place, honestly) and its nice and small and the woman behind the counter keeps sending them knowing looks and Harry forces himself not to blush as he licks at his mint choc-chip ice cream. Louis is talking animatedly about his multiple sisters when a loud, obnoxious voice interrupts him.

“Oi, Harry!” Nick Grimshaw shouts, waving manically from across the room.

Louis raises an eyebrow. “You know him?” Nick’s moved himself out of his chair and is making his way towards them.

“Ex,” Harry groans, dropping his face into his hands. He and Nick had been going out for about a year when he’d discovered him shagging someone else in their apartment. In their _bed._ God, it still gives Harry shivers thinking about it.

Nick stops just in front of them, eyes wide, and mouth open. “Well, well, Harry’s finally going out on a date, after all this time.” Harry looks up to gauge Louis’ reaction and is almost blown away with how angry he looks. _Jesus,_ Harry thinks, _he looks so damn hot when he’s mad._

“What do you want, Nick?” Harry asks instead, giving Nick a bored look. He takes another lick of his ice-cream to distract himself.

Nick puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder and, ignoring the way he goes ridged, says, “Just wanted to talk, _mi amo_.”

Harry pushes himself to stand up, knocking Nick’s hand away with clenched fists. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” Nick asks, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a cruel smirk.

Its then that Harry smells his breath. “Fuck, have you been drinking?!” Nick merely shrugs. Harry opens his mouth to scold him when Louis stands up and slots himself between them, Harry being pushed behind him slightly as he glares at Nick.

“Harry is obviously upset and uncomfortable with your being here, so I would suggest that you leave now, before someone gets hurt.” Harry openly gapes behind him, feeling the rush of blood flooding his cheeks.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Lou,” Harry murmurs, the nickname slipping out. “But he has a point; you should leave, Nick.”

Nick shakes his head at him. “Whatever, _mi amo._ ” He stumbles out of the door and disappears into the night.

Harry turns to face Louis, “I’m sorry about him, he’s…”

“An arsehole?” Louis offers, giving him a small smirk.

Harry nods and confirms, “An arsehole.”

❀

 

When they pull up outside his apartment, they sit in silence for a moment and Harry wants to say, “Thank you for an amazing date, I really enjoyed it.”

Instead, he blurts out: “Wanna come up for some coffee?” Which, honestly, how cringe worthy is that? _Wanna come up for some coffee, for Godsake Harry,_ he berates himself, _way to sound desperate._

Louis looks pained when he answers, “Can’t, unfortunately, I’ve got practice in the morning.”

Harry frowns, “I never actually asked, but, what do you do? I’m gathering it pays a lot,” he gestures to the car that they are currently sat in.

Louis shrugs nonchalantly. “Uhm…oh! How about I show you instead? What are you doing on Saturday?”

Harry thinks about it for a moment. “Nothing that I know of,”

“Great, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 4.” Louis opens his door and makes his way around to Harry’s side, pulling the door for him. Harry clambers out. He and Louis face each other, silently scanning each other’s faces. Slowly, giving him more than enough time to back out, Louis leans forward and presses his lips to Harry’s.

Harry gently pushes his lips against Louis’, reaching up to grip Louis’ shoulders. Louis traces his hands down Harry’s side until they land on the soft doughy skin of his hips.

Harry lets a little giggle slip out and he pulls back, cheeks flaming. “Thank you, this was great, you’re great.”

“I had a blast too,” Louis grins. “Can’t wait for Saturday.” They start walking up towards the main door to Harry’s building.

Harry types in the code and the door of his building pops open softly, “See you Saturday then.” He slips inside and waves through the dirty glass. Louis waves back and gets into his car, throwing Harry another crinkly eyed smile as he pulls out and drives down the street.

Harry bites his lip and makes his way upstairs, shaking his head at the loud, booming music coming from the flat across from him. He unlocks the door and goes in, sliding on the safety lock. He toes his boots off and flops onto the couch, burying his face in the cushions.

He swipes his phone out of his pocket and hits redial.

_“I see you’re not dead.”_

“Well, hello to you too, Li,” Harry snorts, looking at his nails. None of them are chipped, thank god. He really can’t be arsed re-doing them. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my date went?”

Liam clicks his tongue. _“Either way, you’ll end up telling me…but, how did it go?”_

“It was so good!” he gushes. “Louis’ is such a gentleman and guess where he took me? _The Ritz,_ Liam! He’s so funny and charming and good looking and –“

 _“That’s great, babe_ ,” Liam cuts in, sounding entirely too serious. _“When can I meet him?”_ He laughs at Harry’s groan. “What? You’re like my little brother – I’ve gotta meet the new man of your life and give him The Chat.”

Harry shakes his head, “You really don’t need to give him ‘The Chat’.”

 _“I do,”_ Liam insists. _“It’s like, tradition.”_

“Well, we haven’t been on our second date yet, so let’s calm ourselves down here –“

“He’s taking you on a second date already?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Yes, Saturday and he’s sending a car to pick me up.”

“Bloody hell, he’s sending you a car? Who is this guy?”

Harry can’t help the stupid fond smile that spreads across his lips. “Louis Tomlinson.”

 _“Louis Tomlin –“_ Liam splutters, taking in a big gulp of air. _“Jesus, Harry, you really know how to pick ‘em.”_

Harry sits up, intrigued now. “What? How do you know him?”

“Fire up the old Google, H. You’re gonna need it.”

❀

 

Harry sighs from his place behind the counter. There’s only a few customers in today, Barbra, one of the ladies he used to work with in the bakery and Mr Rodgers, a quiet man who likes to keep to himself and sip his extra strong coffee in the corner.

He glances at the clock. He gets off in ten minutes. He still can’t believe that Louis is a famous footballer. Well Harry’s not _actually_ surprised that he didn’t know who he was; he’s not exactly interested in that whole area of profession (besides ogling the very, _very,_ fit players in their shorts).

He eyes the clock again. A minute has passed – he can’t wait until George gets in for his shift. He makes sure that nobody is looking before pulling his phone out.

He unlocks it and opens his messages, scrolling through his and Louis’ conversation the previous night.

_So. You’re a football player and a famous one at that. X_

**Well, I was hoping ud find out on Saturday but yeah – you ok with that?x**

_Of course I am. I blame my best friend for ruining the surprise. Xx_

**It’s ok, now I get 2 show u off :p xx**

_Should I purchase myself a ‘Tomlinson 17’ shirt now then ;) xx_

**Deffo it wud be a crime if u didn’t xxx**

He smiles to himself, putting his phone back in his pocket. He feels like his cheeks are constantly red nowadays. He looks up when the bell above the door rings, greeting George happily.

“Hiiiiiii,” George hangs his coat and bag up and ties his apron around his waist. “Anything exciting happen this week?”

Harry pulls his own coat on, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “I went on a date with a famous football player, he basically told Nick to fuck off – oh and Gemma’s got a girlfriend.”

“Nice,” George nods. “Send me the pics, yeah?”

Harry makes his way to the door, “I will, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye boss!”

Harry rolls his eyes as he steps out onto the street.

❀

**L O U I S**

_“I’m guessing that it went well last night?” Zayn questions, throwing some teabags into two mugs. He flicks the kettle on and gets the milk out of the fridge._

_Louis swings his legs on the tall breakfast bar chairs. “He’s amazing.”_

_“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He says, pulling out his own chair. “When are you next seeing him?”_

_“Saturday, I’m gonna bring him to the game,”_

_Zayn’s eyebrows raise. “Wow, so soon?”_

_“Yep, he now knows who I am and it’s refreshing – he doesn’t want me for the fame.”_

_The kettle switches off and Zayn heaves himself up. “Fair enough – when do I get to meet him?”_

_“Never,” Louis grins, taking the cup of Yorkshire Tea from him._

_“Wanker,” Zayn jibs back, chuckling._

❀

 

He’s warming up with Zayn and the guys when he spots Harry’s curly head in the stands. The stadium is pretty full now, the last of the stragglers filling in the gaps and holes. He’s wearing Louis’ jersey, true to his word, a pair of light blue jeans, boots and a large coat.

He runs upto his and climbs over the barrier, ignoring the loud screams of his name and the security guards warning him. Harry ambles towards him, eyes wide and shining in the lights. He’s beautiful.

“I’m so glad you came,” he whispers, pulling Harry into a hug. He ignores the rise in screams.

“Wouldn’t want to miss a chance to see your famous skills in person, that would be like, a felony.” He’s smirking, the bastard. “Plus, I really like the idea of blowing the winning captain in the locker room.”

Louis grips him just a little harder. “You are a menace, Harry Styles. Bet you’d like that, me stuffing my cock down your throat, making you gag on it.”

Harry breaks the hug first, chest heaving, cheeks stained red, pupils dilated. “Only if you win, though.” He smacks Louis’ bum cheekily.  

“Oh, I’m gonna win, just you wait.” He mutters, running back onto the pitch. Zayn’s grinning at him. Louis studiously ignores him, instead choosing to do some last minute leg stretches.

❀

 

They do end up winning the match, much to Louis’ complete and utter joy and the opposing team’s complete and utter dismay. He’s sweating and sticky and can’t wait for the guys to leave the changing room. He washes himself in the shower quickly, laughing loudly when Devine slips and falls on his arse.

“Fuck off, Tomlinson.”

Louis wraps himself in his towel, “Love ya too, Devine.”

He changes into his jeans and jumper and sits down on the bench and starts to lace up his vans. The locker room empties out and Louis leans back on his hands as he waits for Harry.

Five minutes later Harry pops his head around the door, an elated smile gracing his face. “You won! I can’t believe it!”

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence, love,” he quips back playfully, standing up and stretching. His jumper rises up and he watches as Harry’s eyes are drawn down to the patch of tan skin. “Now, I distinctly remember you said that you’d give me a blowjob if I won and,” he throws his arms out, “I am the champion!” he sings.

“You are positively awful, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry shakes his head, dropping to his knees anyway. He undoes Louis’ pants and pulls them down along with his boxers so they are bunched up around his thighs. He’s not hard yet – but he’s getting there. He groans when Harry leans down and takes him into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Louis sighs, throwing his head back, mouth open. He forces himself to look down at Harry as he swirls his tongue around the tip, gently suckling. Louis slides his hands into Harry’s hair, gripping the long curls. It makes Harry hum around him which sends a jolt down his spine. Harry bobs up and down, hands pressing into the jutting bones of his hips.

He bobs up and down continuously for the next few minutes, taking him to the back of his throat. Louis lets out a pitiful whine because _of course_ Harry has no gag flex. He’s starting to sweat again, this time for an entirely different reason. He feels the familiar tingle deep in the lower pits of his tummy and he manages to gasp out a breathless, “Harry, I’m-“ before a tsunami wave of pleasure crashes over him and he comes.

Harry takes it all, swallowing, eyes closed in a silent bliss as Louis releases his hair. “You want me to…” he starts but stops again.

“Jesus, did that – did you just come from sucking me off?” Harry squirms before lifting himself to his feet, face red, a dark, wet spot staining the front of his jeans.

“Uhm, yeah.” And fuck, his voice is all rough. Louis pulls him in by the back of his neck and crashes their lips together.

“That was so hot,” Louis growls, nibbling on his lips to get them wet and red. Harry’s back arches against his own will as he curls his arms around Louis’ neck.

He pulls back to whisper, “Congratulations, my champion.” And god, he’s so cheesy. He loves it.

❀

 

It’s relatively quiet during the first couple of months into their relationship; Louis not wanting Harry to take on the shitstorm that the media would create about him. It’s unavoidable, however, and when Louis wakes up one morning with Harry koala’d all over him, he nearly screams when he reads the message Niall has sent him with a link attached.

**_LOUIS TOMLINSON AND HIS (BOY)FRIEND SPOTTED IN BURBERRY_ **

_We all knew that the day would come when Louis Tomlinson, undoubtedly the fittest footballer since the Becks, would find himself a love. We never thought we’d see the day when he’d get a boyfriend though – Louis has always been very private and closed off when it comes to his personal life, but guess he wasn’t careful enough this time._

_He was spotted in Burberry with a (very) young, fresh faced boy, whom our sources can reveal is one Mister Harry Styles – the owner of a small coffee shop ‘Styles Spoons’ (seriously?) and Louis’ new boyfie. Whilst we can admit that he’s cute - we still can’t accept the fact that Louis is now off the market, sorry girls and guys. We have contacted Louis’ team but we have no word back from them yet. Stay tuned. Xo_

Louis locks his phone with a sigh. It could have been worse, he supposes, looking down at Harry. His face is smushed into Louis’ chest, hair scattered around him like a halo and every so often he lets out these little snores that Louis most defiantly should not find adorable.

He knows that PR is going to be ringing soon so he carefully extracts himself from Harry who pouts in his sleep but rolls over onto his side, hugging Louis’ pillow. To stop himself from making a physical noise of pain, Louis leaves the room after pulling on his slippers.

He heads into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on. He rolls his eyes as he receives an incoming call from his PR team. He clicks answer.

_“Something you’d like to tell us, Louis?”_

“Always straight to the point with you, isn’t it, James.”

 _“Don’t get cocky with me, Tomlinson,”_ James warns, tone serious. _“Do you understand that the media is currently going ape shit over this?”_

Louis pulls up a seat at the breakfast bar, already knowing that this is going to be a long conversation. “I have a feeling, yes, but it’s none of their business.”

_“Jesus fucking Christ this isn’t a joke! Have you seen Harry’s twitter? He’s gotten so many death threats it’s unbelievable!”_

Louis shakes his head before remembering that he’s on the phone. “No and I don’t want to.”

 _“Listen,”_ James’ voice echoes down the line. _“It’s coming upto Christmas soon so we think that it would be best if you and Harry stayed out of the public eye. Just until Christmas is over at least.”_

Biting his lip, Louis agrees. “I have my cabin up in Italy – I could take him up there?”

_“That’s good – good for publicity too, taking your boyfriend on a romantic Christmas break.”_

Louis gets up when the kettle whistles and clicks off. He picks out two mugs and puts two teabags in. He shifts the phone so that it’s cradled in the crease of his shoulder and cheek as he pours the steaming water into each cup.

“I’m not doing it for publicity – I’m doing this so that my boyfriend doesn’t have to worry about people trying to kill him if he so much as steps foot out of the door. You also just contradicted yourself: ‘ _we think it would be best if you and Harry stayed out of the public eye_.’”

In his head, Louis can see James throwing his hands up in surrender. _“Alright, alright – we’ll sort out the flights and you’ll be leaving on the 20 th.” _

Louis mentally adds the dates to his calendar, “The 20th of December, got it.” He hangs up and Louis bangs his head against the counter, narrowly missing the cups of tea.

“Lou?” Harry’s croaky voice startles him. He spins around to see him stood at the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Louis grins despite the grim situation and walks over to Harry, pulling him into a hug. “Nothing, just planning something special is all.”

“Oh,” Harry hums, eyes sparkling. “Is it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise.” Louis confirms, squeezing Harry’s hips before leading him over to the breakfast bar.

Harry plops down with as much grace as an elephant. “Oh c’mon, y’have to tell me now – pleaseeeeeeee?” Louis brings the tea over and sets it down in front of Harry who is now giving him the world’s biggest puppy eyes, poking his bottom lip out.

Louis throws his hands over his eyes, crying out, “That is _so_ not fair! You can’t use the puppy dog eyes on me, Harry Styles!”

Giggling, Harry takes a sip of his tea, swinging his feet out and hooking them around Louis’ waist. He drags him into the space between his legs and folds his arms around Louis’ neck. “I’ll suck you off if you tell me.”

“Jesus,” he grunts, settling his hands on Harry’s milky thighs. He forces himself to break free of his hold. “Nope, you will not seduce me today.”

Harry pouts, making grabby hands at him. Louis mentally congratulates himself as he picks up his tea and makes his way into the living room, calling over his shoulder, “You’ll have to wait a couple more days!”

❀

 

Three days pass and Louis actually has to pat himself on the back for being able to keep the upcoming trip a secret. Harry has tried many different tactics in order to get Louis to spill, but all have been unsuccessful. First, he denies Louis sex, which, in all honesty, nearly brakes him.

 

He holds out strong though, and it’s Harry who can’t handle the ban in the end. Then he tries to get Louis talking by not cleaning up. He doesn’t wash up or put his clothes in the hamper (what he fails to realise is that Louis actually doesn’t care about any of that stuff, and has a maid come in every Wednesday). Finally, he just goes for the good old begging.

 

“Please, please tell me, Louis, please,” Harry whines, throwing himself into his lap. Louis keeps his gaze focussed on the tv, trying to concentrate on the moving pictures dancing across the screen. He almost smacks himself when he realises that he’s watching adverts even though he’s on catch up and can skip them.

 

“Nope.”

“Loooouis.”

“No.”

Harry snatches the remote off him and types in the channel number for Kerrang. “Oh god no.”

The screaming voices and screeching guitars blast out loudly through the speakers. Harry grins evilly at him. “Tell me the surprise and I’ll give you the remote back.”

Grimacing, Louis gives Harry a pleading look. When Harry makes no movements to switch the music off, Louis gives in, scrambling for the remote. Harry laughs loudly, holding it up above his head. Louis ends up miscalculating because he ends up knocking them both to the floor, the breath leaving Harry’s lungs with a _woosh._

Louis lifts himself up on his elbows, peering down at Harry, eyes glinting mischievously. Suddenly he digs his fingers into Harry’s squishy sides, leaning back as Harry careens forwards, wriggling frantically to dislodge him. “F-fuck, Lou – stop!” He shouts between breathless laughter.

Louis finally relents, smirking as Harry puffs out a breath. He looks beautiful, eyes blown wide, hair askew, chest heaving up and down. He had planned a romantic meal out, wine, candles, soft music playing in the background but right now, right here in this moment, it seems perfect.

“Harry…how would you feel about coming away for Christmas with me?”

Harry blinks slowly, hefting himself up. “Where?”

“I bought a cabin up in Italy a couple of years ago. So, would you? Like to go with me?”

Harry lets a smile spread across his face, pressing his forehead against Louis’. “I’d love to.”

Louis pulls them up and spins him around. “Great! We leave on the 20th, so you better start packing, darling.”

❀

**H A R R Y**

“He’s taking you to Italy for Christmas, wow, that’s amazing.” Liam congratulates him.

Harry grins over his glass of wine, folding his legs under him, his old lumpy sofa easily moulding to him. Britain and Ireland’s Next Top Model is on, but he pays no mind to Elle scolding one of the ‘trainees’. “I can’t wait.”

Liam swirls the wine in his own glass, “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning, we’re flying in his private jet,” Harry giggles, taking a large sip.

Liam’s brows raise, “You’re all packed then, I presume?” He groans at Harry’s guilty face.

“I’m half way through, I just – got bored s’all…” He makes the surrender sign at the stern look Liam gives him. He gets to his feet.

“Up, up right now, Mister Styles. We are going to finish packing your bags right now and then you are going to get a good night’s sleep. No arguments, Harry.”

Grumbling, Harry stands up and makes his way to his room, opening the door to reveal the chaos. There are clothes, shoes, socks and even boxers strewn across the room as if a hurricane had blown threw. Harry at least has the decency to look sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck.

Liam peeps into Harry’s open suitcase that’s been dumped on the bed. There’s a few pairs of jeans and jeggings and some woolly jumpers.

“You don’t need underwear then?” Liam asks, bending down to snag a pair of dark purple boxers.

Harry shrugs, “Doubt I’ll need them.” Liam gags but puts them in the case anyway. Harry can’t help the snort that slips through his lips.

❀

 

 _“Hey, babe,”_ Louis greets over the phone. _“I’m in the car now, on my way, so I’ll probably be about twenty minutes.”_

“Ok, I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” Harry hangs up, tugging on a pair of jeans. He takes the jumper he’d chosen last night of the hanger, puts it on and tugs on a pair of socks. He grabs a bobble and shoves his hair up into a bun. Rushing into the bathroom, he quickly brushes his teeth and puts it into his toiletries bag.

He takes his phone off the charger and slides it into his carry-on bag. He’s already eaten, although there would be food on the plane if requested it, according to Louis. Lugging his bags into the hallway, Harry peeps out of the window, the soft amber glow of the sunrise poring through and settling onto his face.

There are a few rubbish sweepers out to clean the streets before the chaos of shoving and pushing bodies spill out on their way to work. A shiny black car pulls up outside and Louis steps out. He’s wearing a pair of grey jogging bottoms, a black and white Nike hoodie and black VANS.

He looks up and when he spots Harry, grins and waves up at him. Harry waves back, feeling giddy. He shimmies into his coat and picks up his bags. Quickly double checking the list he’d written out, he opens the door and drags his bags outside. He locks the door and practically skips downstairs as fast as his legs can carry him – that, and the lift is still broken.

When the door to his building pops open, Louis holds it open and grabs one of Harry’s bags, beaming at him. “Hi, love,” he breathes, presses a cold lipped kiss to his cheek.

“Hey,” Harry shivers, following Louis to the car, they put his bags in the boot along with Louis’ and get in. Louis cranks the heating up and turns the radio down slightly.

“It’ll take us about two and a half hours to get to Italy and the car will take us to my cabin up by Lake Como. It’s about an hour and twenty minutes from Malpensa airport.”

Harry turns to face Louis, keeping his eyes away from the clock. The clock that is most likely mocking him with 4:03am blinking sharply. “I can’t wait.”

❀

 

The inside of Louis’ private jet is really quite nice and cosy – the opposite of what he thought it would be. Instead of the uncomfortable chairs he was expecting to see, there are three cream sofas, each with their own little coffee tables and poufs. He flops down onto one and stretches out, rubbing his cheek on the soft cushion, holding back his purr.

He glances up and blushes when he realises that Louis is watching him with what looks to be a fond smile. He’s sat on the sofa opposite him, taking a glass of champagne from one of the air hostesses. She turns and offers him one but he declines politely, eyes drooping a little.

“You can sleep if you want – there’s a bed in the back.” Louis nods his head towards the rear end of the cabin. Harry thanks him and makes his way down, kicking off his boots. The double bed touches the wall on both sides and it looks so comfy that Harry simply peels back the covers and crawls in. He lets out a content sigh and his head hits the pillow on the closes his eyes before shifting. He frowns at the sharp metal stabbing him in the side.

He lifts the covers and spots the seatbelt that is attached to each end of the bed. He clips it over him, making sure that it’s secure before shutting his eyes again, losing himself to sleep.

❀

 

When he comes to, there’s a warm body pressed close behind him and a tan arm slung across his waist. Legs are tangled with his. He bites his lip to hold back his grin and shuffles backwards, greedily taking in the heat that the body offers.

“Shouldn’t I be the big spoon?” he asks, patting the hand that’s resting on his belly.

Louis puffs out a tiered breath. “No, I’m the big spoon, you’re the small spoon, Styles,” he cards a hand through the roots of Harry’s hair, listening happily as Harry lets out an actual purr.

“But I’m taller.” It isn’t really a protest – not at all.

“But I’m the big spoon.” Is Louis’ oh-so-smart response. Harry breaths out a laugh, rolling over to face Louis. Harry marvels at the sight of a sleepy Louis Tomlinson.

“How long have I been asleep?” he tucks his head beneath Louis’ chin, listening to the comforting _thump thump_ beat that Louis’ heart produces, calming him.

Louis scratches down his spine, pressing his hand just above his arse. “’bout an hour, give or take. Thought I’d come and join you.”

“’m glad you did, you’re really warm.”

Louis snorts and pinches his side. “Is that all you wanted from me all along – body heat? Well, now I’m insulted.” He hides his smile and starts to move.

“No!” Harry giggles, rolling over and swinging his leg over Louis’ hips so he’s straddling him. He leans down and brushes his lips against the light dusting of stubble coating Louis’ cheeks. “Wanted you, silly.” His shoulder length curls hang around his face. Harry sits himself up and pulls his hair into a bun, fastening it with the bobble that’s around his wrist.

Satisfied, he looks down to find Louis watching him in fascination. “What?”

Louis rests his hands on Harry’s hips, fingers slipping underneath his jumper to stroke at the soft skin there. Harry supresses a shiver. “Nothing, jus’ admiring the view.”

Harry rolls his eyes and slaps Louis on the chest. “That was awful.”

“Awfully good, no?”

Harry pauses and tilts his head, “Not awful,” he corrects. “Cheesy, yes, but. Not _really_ awful.”

Louis suddenly cups his face in his hands and brings him down so that he can peck him on the lips, leaving Harry pouting. “ _Heeeey._ You gotta kiss me properly, Lewis.”

He ducks down to kiss him again, whining when Louis holds him back, mere centimetres from his lips. “Shut up, Harold.”

Louis has to smirk at the indignant look crossing Harry’s face. “’s not my name.” He turns his head away, sticking his chin out.

“I’m just kidding, H,” Louis croons, pulling him until Harry just gives up and collapses on his chest. He locks their lips together, allowing Harry to suck on his tongue greedily for a moment. When they pull apart Harry’s face is flushed and he’s panting slightly.

“If we were on a longer flight we could totally join the Mile High Club…” Harry says suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows. He rolls his hips down to emphasise his point.

“You little…” Louis starts but is interrupted by the soft sound of knuckled rapping on the door.

“Sir, we’ll be getting ready to land soon, so please make sure you are both buckled in or you return to your seats, thank you.” The hostess from earlier announces, voice carrying through the door. Louis lets out a groan when Harry lifts himself onto his feet, holding out his hand.

“You heard the lady – we gotta buckle up!”

Louis shoves himself to his feet angrily. “When we get to the cabin I’m going to spank you so hard that you’ll be able to feel the sting even after we get back to the UK.”

Harry holds in his whimper at the thought.

❀

 

With his head against the window, cushioned by Louis’ hoodie, Harry drifts to the quiet strands of Oblivion by Bastille. He remembers stepping off the jet and almost yelling as the extreme cold soaked through his jumper and settled in his bones. He remembers stumbling after Louis, leaning his head on his shoulder as they waited for their luggage to be delivered. He remembers the ever gentle press of lips to the crown of his skull and he remembers the reassuring weight of Louis’ arm around his waist.

After that it’s all a blur; a blur of drowsiness and the quiet humming of Louis singing along to Dan. There is this air to Louis that Harry just can’t explain. His voice especially is hard to describe. It’s warm and flowing like a blazing summer, and everyone seems to relax when he has something to say. But as soon as he becomes angry, the summer freezes over and his voice becomes like ice, cold and hard, and his eyes second the notion. When he is sad, it becomes a cool waterfall in the middle of nowhere, alone and small.

Startling when a warm hand brushes against his cheek, Harry flutters his eyes open, blinking blearily up at Louis. He’s wrapped a blue scarf around his neck and now appears to be wearing a thick looking ski coat. He has one in his arm for Harry.

“Moring, love. The weather is generally mild around here but it seems a bit chilly today so I thought you might like this.” Harry takes the coat and undoes his seatbelt to put it on. He doesn’t bother with the scarf, leaning over the console to kiss Louis.

He opens the car door and in his excitement nearly falls out. Louis cracks up, swinging his own body out of the car as well. He comes around and wraps his around Harry, squashing his face in his neck. “Welcome to my cabin.”

Harry looks up, mouth dropping open. “Wow, he breathes, taking in the sight. The cabin is cute and small looking and there are several colourful bushes surrounding it. “It’s beautiful.”

Louis takes his hand and leads him upto the door, footsteps crunching on the gravel. He unlocks it and steps aside, allowing Harry to enter first. He kicks off his shoes, shrugs his coat off and spins around in a circle, admiring the décor.   

It has a nice homey feel to it, there are several framed pictures of Louis and his family and friends nailed haphazardly on the wall and there’s even an actual wood burning fire.

“We used to spend a lot of Easter holidays up here when the twins were younger, they used to love hiking with me,” Louis whispers, afraid to break the atmosphere that’s been created. He watches as Harry walks around the room, inspecting it.

“That sounds amazing, me and Gem used to spend our holidays at the café with my granddad. We learned all sorts of things, like, how to bake the best marble cakes and the finest chocolate caramel shortbread slices. My mum taught us how to cook too – though, admittedly, I was more suited to baking and Gemma cooking.” Harry’s moved to the sofa now, tucking his legs under him.

Louis shuts the door and joins him. Harry’s gaze turns towards the window, eyes watching but not really seeing, lost in the memories.

“We didn’t really have a lot of money growing up, my dad passed when I was a baby and my mum worked three jobs to support us. We didn’t need a lot, just each other, really. I remember I always wanted to give something back to mum, to thank her for everything that she’s done.

She can’t work anymore because there was an accident at work, so any extra money that we make at the coffee, I give to her to make her life just that bit better. It’s not much, but. It’s something.”

Louis takes Harry’s hand into his own, thumb tracing the pale veins showing through his skin like translucent glass. “I’m sorry about your dad – and your mum. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the café? Why didn’t it go to your mum or Gemma?”

Harry blinks, eyes focusing back onto Louis. “Uhm, mum and granddad had a sort of falling out before he died and Gemma was already at University, so I guess it seemed like the most logical thing to do? I wasn’t really going anywhere; I liked spending my time singing in a band with my friends.”

Louis raises his eyebrows in wonder. “How do you even manage that? I mean, I have a manager, an assistant manager, a PR team, all that shebang and I’m still as useless as ever. I’m impressed, Mister Styles.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that_ useless.” Harry giggles, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. “But if you don’t want to be useless, I distantly recall you saying something about _spanking me so hard I’d be able to feel the sting even after we get back to the UK._ ”

“Christ,” Louis mutters, picking himself up of the sofa. “You really are trying to kill me. Bedrooms at the end of the hallway, first door on your left.”

Harry merely winks and jumps from the sofa, actually skipping down the hallway. Louis stands up and wipes his hands down his jeans.

“Yep, defiantly trying to kill me.”

❀

 

Their first breakfast in the cabin is interesting to say the least. Harry’s wearing one of Louis’ shirts that barely covers his still red tinged arse and has pulled his hair up into a bun. He hums to himself whilst making the cups of tea, Louis watching fascinatedly from his spot at the island.

His hands sting at the memory of last night, Harry crying out and writhing as his hand hit the fleshy meat of his arse. The way he’d arched his back and even let out a few tears, mixing with his whimpers. _God._

Harry sets the tea down in front of him, gingerly taking a seat. He giggles.

“Last night as good. We should do it again.”

Louis shakes his head and takes a sip of the tea, sighing. It’s just as he likes it. He loves this boy – well, he…yeah, Louis nods. He loves this boy a hell of a lot.

“What?!” Harry exclaims, making Louis snap his head up. Shit. Did he just say that out loud? “Yeah…you did.” Well fuck.

Louis gulps down the rest of his tea like he’s Ron swallowing the ‘liquid luck’ in Harry Potter and gets off his seat, moving around so that he’s in front of his boyfriend. Harry’s eyes are wide and slightly glassy, a few loose locks falling from his bun.

“I was going to wait a few more weeks to tell you, probably with a moonlit dinner, a violin player present to ‘set the mood’, but. This is good.” Harry feels like he’s ready to cry. “I love you and I quote ‘ _I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you.’_ ”

Taking a deep breath, Harry shuffles forward and wraps his arms around Louis’ neck, pulling him into a hug. When Louis’ hands settle on his hips, he presses his lips against Louis’ ear and whispers back, “ _It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you._ ”

Louis pulls back, and squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “That was as cheesy as fuck.” Harry barks out a laugh and slams his lips against Louis’, grunting when he bites down on his lip.

“Everyone loves a bit of cheese, Tomlinson. Now, carry me to the bedroom – we have to celebrate our new found love!”

Louis defiantly doesn’t roll his eyes endearingly.

❀

Harry’s got both legs on either side of Louis’ hips and Louis' hands are scraping up and down Harry's back, pressing his fingertips into the taut flesh there. Harry's clinging onto Louis shoulders, desperate needy whimpers escaping his lips.

 

“I love you,” he moans, hiccupping. Louis clamps his teeth down harder on the soft skin of Harry’s neck in response. Harry lets out a high pitched yelp which is quickly muffled by Louis, tongue pushing forcefully past the seam of his lips and into the cavern of his mouth.

 

Harry can’t seem to stop his hips from snapping down to meet Louis’. He’s so glad that he decided not to wear any underwear this morning. The only thing he’s got on is Louis’ shirt and that’s kinda hot. Louis seems to agree as well, scraping blunt nails down his back.

 

Grunting loudly, Harry scrambles backwards and practically rips Louis pants down his muscly thighs. He licks his way down Louis’ chest, nosing at the base of his dick. Louis shifts and spreads his legs for Harry to settle between them comfortably.

 

Harry leans down, takes the head of Louis' cock into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the tip. Louis absolutely falls apart, moaning high and loud, desperately tries to hold himself back from burying himself in the back of Harry’s throat. Harry’s eyes widen comically but only succeeds in winding Louis up more. He grips the bed covers so hard his knuckles turn white from the pressure. Harry bobs up and down, doing things with his tongue that are just so fucking  _sinful_ he wants to scream.

Instead he lets out a pitiful whine, stretching it out as Harry deep throats him and _of course_. How could he forget that Harry has no fucking gag reflex? Damn him. His mind goes blissfully blank, tsunami wave after tsunami wave of pleasure and relief crashing over him as he comes straight down Harry's throat, mouth open in a silent moan. The absolute angel that he is takes it all, sucks until he's clean and crawls over Louis’ now limp body. Pressing his lips against his, he slips his tongue into Louis’ mouth, letting him taste his come in Harry's mouth. 

“We aren’t done yet, Mr Tomlinson,” Harry announces, pulling a bottle of lube from underneath his pillow. What? You’ve gotta be prepared for everything. “I’m going to ride you until you see stars.”

Louis merely grunts, dick twitching valiantly at the thought. Harry pours the lube over his fingers and reaches behind himself, pressing one in. He puffs out a breath, tucking another in, as he begins to finger himself. He whimpers at the intense look in Louis’ eyes. He sees stars as Louis pushes his own finger alongside Harry’s.

“A-ah, fuck,” Harry abruptly pulls their fingers out and reaches for the condom that is beside Louis’ head when a tan hand reaches out and stops him. Giving him a puzzled look, Harry sits back down, shivering at the feel of Louis’ cock sliding down the crack of his arse.

Louis looks pained as he answers, hands coming up to grip Harry’s hips. Hard. “I’m clean – we get tested every couple of months or so, but I’m totally cool if you don’t want t –“ He’s cut off mid ramble by Harry’s spit slicked lips. Harry doesn’t even bother answering, instead choosing to reach behind him for Louis’ cock. He lifts himself and guides to head to his entrance.

Swallowing, he sinks down, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Louis moans loudly beneath him. When his arse hits the cradle of Louis’ pelvis he chokes a little, feeling so, so full and wonderful.

“You ok, darling? ‘S good, yeah?” Louis asks, rubbing his hands up and down Harry’s side, fingers bumping over his ribcage as his chest rises and falls rapidly. He thrusts up suddenly, catching them both of guard.

Harry lets out a wet sob. “I’m so – ah, great, its great, ngh, Louis!” He babbles as Louis thrusts again, this time sending Harry up with it. He falls down onto Louis’ chest, head falling into the crook of his neck. He pecks the slightly salty skin there, feeling himself getting addicted to the taste. He runs his tongue along it, sucking a weak mark.

The heat between them is almost scorching and Harry feels a rush of determination strike him like lightning. He picks himself up and drops back down, slamming himself onto Louis’ dick.

“Holy shit!” He hears Louis shout and grins, pleased. He twists his hips when he drops next, crying out as he hits his prostate. Harry rides Louis for all that he’s worth, sweat dripping down his chest. Louis keeps thrusting too, which, yeah. Feels pretty goddamn amazing. He can’t help all of the sounds that come tumbling past his lips but he couldn’t care less right now.

Not now he’s sat atop Louis’ marvellous cock. Harry feels his belly begin to tighten so he begins to increase his speed, prompting Louis to do the same. Soon the pair of them are almost racing each other to get their slice of euphoria, nearly tangible in the hot air.

It’s Harry who comes first, clenching down hard when Louis pinches his nipples between his fingers. He trembles as Louis comes next, filling him with a delicious flood of warmth. They both collapse, limbs tangling together like a never ending game of Twister. 

Harry listens, head on Louis’ chest, to his heart beat start to calm down from fluttering faster than a hummingbird to the soothing _thump, thump, thump._

Louis’ hand slides into his hair and starts fingering out the knots. Harry hums in satisfaction and closes his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ chest.

“Love you,” He whispers, feeling himself being dragged down by the darkness.

“Love you too, darling,” Louis replies, stroking his hands down Harry’s neck. It’s the comforting touch that lures Harry into a deep and peaceful sleep.

❀

**E P O L I G U E**

**T H I R D  P E R S O N**

“You look well and truly fucked,” is the first thing Liam states, pulling Harry into his arms. Harry smirks but doesn’t comment, mind flashing back to the more erotic scenes of their break. Spending Christmas with Louis had been amazing.

Harry had worn his favourite oatmeal oversized jumper and nothing else underneath, feeling naughty and slightly aroused by the whole situation. They’d only managed to open one present before all hell broke loose and Louis had bent Harry over the arm of the sofa and fucked him till he could no longer function.

“How was it, then?” He asks, pulling Harry’s bag inside, leaving Harry to trail behind, trying not to wince as he takes a step. True to his word, Louis _had_ spanked him again before they left and he is most defiantly still feeling it.

He plucks off his beanie and throws it onto the coffee table. “It was amazing – _Louis_ was amazing…” Harry ends up trailing off, losing himself in his Louis themed thoughts.

Liam rolls his eyes fondly at his friend, and unzips his case to help him unpack. Liam gapes at the sight of the still folded, clean underwear he’d packed for Harry. They haven’t been touched.

“I told you I wouldn’t need them.” Harry shrugs with a shit eating grin.

“Oh man,” Liam moans, throwing his hands over his eyes. “That is _not_ an image I wanted to be stuck in my head.”

Harry merely switches on the TV and his heart begins to race as his favourite player runs across the pitch chasing the ball. He pulls his leg back and kicks with all his might – the ball soaring gracefully straight into the net.

“TOMLINSON DOES IT AGAIN! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE ARE NOW THROUGH TO THE FINALS!”

Harry grins, and presses his hand against his chest, right where his heart is. “That’s my man. That’s my Louis.”

**fin**

❀

**Author's Note:**

> If you find any mistakes (I'm sure you will as I don't have a beta at the moment) don't hesitate to call a girl out! I don't particularly want that my story! 
> 
> Leave a comment, tell me your feelings and thoughts and I will be eternally greatful! 
> 
> If you want to get in touch, here is where you can 'hit me up' (cringe or what?):
> 
> Tumblr: shiningseokjin  
> Twitter: shiningseokjin
> 
> Ciao for now!


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